Christmas Presence
by AmandaFaye
Summary: Candy's rebellion leads to a bonding moment with the Captain.


Christmas Prescence

Standard disclaimer and so on. THE GHOST AND MRS. MUIR IS NOT MY PROPERTY. It belongs to 20th century Fox, RA Dick, etc. If I owned Penelope and Danny, they'd be in time out so long they'd never see light of day again. Some of the events are based on fact, but those facts are part of my life. The stranger ones.

"Candy Muir, what is that on your face?" Carolyn asked suspiciously.

"It's make-up," Jonathan piped up helpfully. "Penny Hassenhammer was teasing Candy about being a baby and not painting her face up like a - a girl, and so Stephanie lent her some until she can get her own. Then Penelope said maybe if Candy was good, Santa would bring her some."

Face flaming, Candy gritted out, "Shut up, Jonathan."

Carolyn examined her little girl's face. Ten was too young for all that, Penelope or not. "Candy, don't tell your brother to shut up. You are too young for make up yet."

"But Mom! Penelope ---"

"You are not Penelope," Carolyn replied firmly.

"Thank goodness," Martha muttered.

"Candy, you are still my little girl, even though you are growing up, fast." Too fast, was her silent addition to the thought.

"But -" Candy began, breaking off.

Not knowing what the but was meant to be, Carolyn shook her head again. "Go wash your face. Martha and I will drive you into town after you have done that. We don't want the head angel to be late for the Christmas rehearsal. " She smiled. "And we'll be back in plenty of time to bring you home."

"Where are you going, Madam? I thought we were going to work on that article about the Mexican War," the Captain said. "Don't worry, my dear. Martha can neither see nor hear me. Just you, at the moment."

Scruffy barked.

"The two of you," he said with a frown, but the bark was not unfriendly. More like a "hello."

"What's gotten into him?" Martha said.

Jonathan and Candy, forgetting the spat, exchanged looks. "He wants a - treat,'' Candy said quickly.

"Yeah, he's seen you making fudge and feels left out." Jonathan grinned, then barked. "I want some too."

"Well, chocolate is bad for dogs, so anyone who barks gets none. And in this damp weather, it's turning into fudge soup."

"Maybe we can just buy some while we're Christmas shopping at that craft fair I'm covering for the Beacon,'' Carolyn suggested, more to answer the captain than anything else. "And sneak in some Christmas shopping, too."

"I'm just glad I don't have to be in a dumb ol' play, " Jonathan affirmed smugly. "Who wants to be a girly angel anyway?"

"Where will you be, lad?" the captain asked.

"Jonathan is going with us- Ralph will meet us at the craft show and pick him up for the weekend. Just the guys," Carolyn said, with only a hint of tension about seeing her father in law and his macho- ism.

"I know that. It'll be interesting to see what my name is this time," Martha grimaced.

"Just making notes to myself. Writers, you know. Ha. Ha."

"Mom, you can just let me walk into town,'' Candy said. "I'll be fine."

"Candy, I'm not letting you walk. It's chilly."

"Unseasonably un- cold, " Martha noted.

"But still chilly, and besides, even though you're my big girl, you're my little girl still."

Candy pressed her lips together angrily, looking away.

"Now, wash that stuff off," Martha said, re-enforcing the prior "suggestion." "We're going to be late."

On Candy's face a mulish look began to set in. When Carolyn saw, her feelings began to wage war. On one hand, the wisdom of obedience needed to be asserted. On the other, she understood and dealing with the Captain had shown her that compromise could achieve some victory.

Relenting just a hair, Carolyn began by reasserting her position. "Martha is right, go wash it off, Candy- but I think I have a light pink lipstick in my handbag. It's a bit light for me, but it is prettier than Chapstick, and the cold air can really hurt your lips."

Sulking, but knowing she had lost, Candy exited the kitchen to do as told.

The Captain followed in concern. "You know, in my day, a fresh scrubbed face was all a truly beautiful woman - or girl needed to be attractive."

"In your day," Candy shook her head. "And I'm not."

"Not what?" Daniel frowned, pulling his ear in confusion.

"Beautiful. Or even pretty."

"Nonsense, you're.."

"Don't try to make me feel better, okay. Just, leave me alone."

Hurt, the ghost turned away to emphasize he was doing that, even as he faded, then saw the girl's mother standing behind them. She smiled a bit sadly, mouthing "thanks anyway."

Female, eternally, implacably, female.

His image resolved into something more definite. "Would you care for me to go with Candy to her rehearsal, invisibly to keep an eye on her?"

It was tempting, but, Carolyn shook her head. "No, thanks, Captain. She'll be all right, and would only resent a watchdog."

He accepted this with a nod. "Very well then. I'll be in the alcove then."

As Carolyn let Candy off at the church, she double checked, "What time will the rehearsal be over, honey?"

"Um…" Candy hesitated. "Five," she finally settled on after a bit of thought.

"We should be back in plenty of time,'' Martha said. "Barring natural disasters. "

"Those should be otherwise occupied," Carolyn blurted out. "The weatherman," she extemporized seeing Martha's funny look, "said the cold front wouldn't be here until tomorrow."

"So it'll either be early or late."

Candy rolled her eyes. "See ya," she said hastily, hurrying away before any more could be said.

"She'll get over this stage, Mrs. Muir,'' Martha assured her. "Come on. We don't want to make Mr. Muir wait."

"True."

In relief, Candy hastened inside. The rehearsals would be over at four, she would make it home on her own, and prove that she was an adult, kind of, almost.

Stephanie was waiting for her. "Hurry up. Mr. Farris is having a cow. He needs to get home early, so rehearsal should've started a half hour ago, at least to get the full time in. Where's your blush and shadow?"

Candy's face burned enough to have blush on it. "Mom made me wash my face."

"Well, at least you snuck the lipstick past her," the other girl shrugged sympathetically. "Fortunately, Penny is so full of herself about being Mary that she probably won't give you a hard time."

Candy shook her head. She couldn't think of anyone less like the Holy Mother than Penelope. Anything could be bought, she guessed. Almost anyway.

"Why does Mr. Farris need to get home early?"

"Football game on the TV."

"Oh. That's a good reason. But baseball's better."

Candy considered her situation, trying to decide if it affected her plan, then decided it didn't.

Stephanie continued talking. "If there's time, maybe you can put on some of my make up and wash it off before you leave."

"Penelope would see me taking it off. But- let's do it anyway. I can take it off later- sometime."

"Won't your mom get mad?"

"She is going to have to accept that I'm a young lady now," Candy informed her friend airily. Besides, she'd be home long before her mother was back home. Right? Right. Maybe the captain would keep it under his hat. That sent her mind wondering why he never wore that hat that was in his picture. Maybe it itched? Or did ghosts itch anymore? Jonathan probably knew. Captain Gregg had talked to her brother right off the bat. Everyone liked Jonathan better than her. Even Grandpa.

"Chop, chop!" Ray Farris commanded. "Hurry up. Head Angel Gabrielle. Gabrielle. Oh there you are. Hurry up. You have important news for the Virgin Mary."

Rolling her eyes again, Candy plodded up to the stage.

"No, no, angels are g- race- ful. Float."

"Candy Muir couldn't float unless she had a boat,'' Danny Shoemaker sneered. "Maybe the ghost of Gull Cottage can sail her away gracefully."

"Shut up, Danny," Candy ordered.

Before Danny could retort, Mr. Farris shushed them all, surreptitiously checking his watch.

"Hurry up, kids. Let's go, let's go. Choir, are you ready to sing Angels We Have Heard on High as soon as Mary finishes the Magnificat?"

"Yes, sir," they mumbled.

"Then, four - three- two - one- GO."

"Fear not, Mary. I bring you good news," Candy began, trying not to sound ungracious.

Too bad school plays don't get Tony awards.

"We'll see you Sunday night, Carolyn," Ralph said heartily as he bundled Jonathan into his Jeep. "Maybe we'll stop and chop down a tree for you on the way."

"Oh, we have one already," Carolyn said hastily. It was not actually in the house yet, but the Captain had promised to help get one- whether that meant taking the kids out to chop one or if he was going to prevail on Claymore's cowardly nature to make a good deal was best left at the don't ask any questions, you'll hear nothing that you'd rather not category.

"Oh. Well, too bad. Nothing like a fresh cut tree- and I bet Jonathan's never done that."

"Artificial sounds good to me," Martha noted dryly. "No pine needles to vacuum."

"Now, Elizabeth," Ralph said condescendingly, "where's the fun of a plastic tree?"

"As I said, no vacuuming, Mr. Hobbs."

"My name is Muir, not Hobbs, Elizabeth," he reproved.

"Fancy that! My name's not Elizabeth either."

Carolyn and Jonathan snuck amused looks at each other.

Ralph shook his head before stepping closer to his daughter in law. "Do you think you should check Elizabeth's health? She's terribly absent minded."

"I'm sure it's the holi- DAZE," Carolyn said, patting his arm in the same condescending way that he had spoken.

Her pun only confounded the poor man, but he pretended to find it amusing anyway. As the two left, finally, Carolyn could not help but be grateful that Jonathan did have a good male influence in his life, even if that male influence wasn't - well- in life strictly. Now, to work, and maybe finding the perfect present for the man who had nothing and could use nothing.

Rehearsal was not going well. All the "hurrying" and "chopping" was fraying nerves rapidly. Danny Shoemaker had flubbed more than one line. A shepherd's crook had tripped up one of the Magi , sending the basket of "gold" flying right on top of the Alexanderkins doll that was playing Jesus. Penelope's anguished "my baby!" had sent everyone, including Mark Helmore, AKA, Joseph into giggles. That was one marriage that was doomed, Candy thought with only a trace of glee. Mark was pretty, but even at her young age, she had a higher basis for comparison, or had in the last few months since meeting the captain.

Finally, half and hour before even Candy had expected, Ray gave up. Nothing was going right, it was starting to get colder, and he had a two Anacin headache going.

"Rehearsal's over for today. Go home," he announced abruptly.

No one asked to call home for a ride. Pretty much everyone but the Muir kids lived in town, so it was just a few blocks away to walk. Penelope would have asked anyway, but her mother was playing the piano, so she could take the little unholy witch home.

Despite her child's nasty demeanor, Mrs. Hassenhammer was slightly less snide and snippy. On the way out, she stopped to offer Candy a ride home, ignoring Penelope's scowl. Candy did not ignore it though.

"No thanks, Mrs. H," she said with a half smile. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure- the temperature's dropped at least fifteen degrees since we started.?"

"She'll be fine, she's a tough girl," Penelope smirked.

Candy bit back her retort with difficulty.

"I'm sure. " Before there could be further discussion, she hustled outside and began the long walk home.

It was colder than she had expected. The wind did not help either, cutting through the lightweight jacket that less than two hours ago was a bit too warm.

Grey clouds scuttled across the sky, promising direr weather was on the horizon. Candy said a silent prayer that they would hold off. Wouldn't it be great if the Captain could control all the weather?

It'd be nice if he was here, the thought flitted through her mind as the girl shivered. She was glad of the lipstick. It did help keep her lips from hurting.

Captain Gregg felt the weather begin to turn. Moving up to the widow's walk, he let his senses tell him what the wind would feel like if he had normal perceptions. It was the beginning of the wind seamen called the Soul Biter. By nightfall it would be not fit for man or beast outside the ship.

He could only pray that his family would make it home by then. It would not be pleasant in the hours ahead, but being caught would be far worse. It was pneumonia weather.

He spied Scruffy scratching at the door, and popped down to let the little dog inside the warmth. Would it be safe to put on a fire? Mrs. Muir would appreciate it, but Martha did not know he was there. It could scare her that they had left a fire going in the hearth.

He could at least dry off the little dog, he decided getting a towel. Maybe that would smooth their shaky friendship a bit more. "Now, lad, you need to learn not to go playing in puddles or however you got wet. Don't know if you can get a cold, but I doubt you'd be much of a patient."

Scruffy barked agreement.

A cold chill went down the captain's back. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. As he concentrated on the feeling, he could almost hear…

"I wish the Captain was here."

He looked around. Candy wasn't in the house. She was supposed to be in that rehearsal thing a ma jig.

Somehow, he knew she wasn't.

The ghost began to go outside, glad for once that he was not solid and could not truly feel the cold except to know that it was so, and it was dropping. On that thought, he dematerialized to reappear in the children's room and retrieve a wooly poncho and hat. The coat, such as it was, that Candy had worn was pitifully inadequate.

"Mind the house, Scruffy. If you see Claymore, bite him," the captain instructed, sure that the little four footer would understand.

Fifteen minutes down the road, he saw Candy trying to stand on one foot while pulling off her shoe. From her gestures, he would conclude that she had a rock in her shoe and it was worrying her. What the devil was she doing out in this? Had something happened to Ca-- Mrs. Muir? Having sighted her, he dematerialized, reforming beside her.

"Candy?"

Quick thinking on his part kept her from falling, as the same power that he used to move objects interceded as the girl lost her balance, righting her.

"Captain, am I glad to see you!" she smiled through tears.

"I'm glad to see you as well, Candy. But I must ask, why are you here, alone, walking? Has something happened to your mother?"

Her head dropped, taking his heart with it. "Mom doesn't know I'm out here. I guess she's still at that market thing- or driving home by now. I've been walking a long time it feels like."

"She -" he stopped in mid question when a gust sent shivers through Candy. "Here. I thought you might need a coat," he said, changing course. "Slip this on."

Gratefully, she took it. "How'd you know I was cold?"

"My special powers, " he winked, though he wasn't sure himself how he'd known she needed help.

"Cool."

"It's rather more than that, I fear. Blast, it's at least twenty minutes for the two of us to walk back to Gull Cottage," he fumed, not liking exposing the child to the elements one bit.

Candy didn't correct his misuse of slang. It was sweet in a way, and funny, and true.

"Can't be helped."

He considered questioning her again, but decided it would be best to wait until they got home.

"I could pop over to Claymore's, that oaf could do his good deed of the decade and give y- us a ride. But it would probably take as long to get him here as to walk."

"I can make it, sir," she said bravely. "Just let me get this rock out of my shoe."

"Let's see if I can help with that." With a slight frown of concentration, he floated the small stone out of her shoe.

"It felt bigger than that."

"Tend to be that way they do," he agreed.

In companionable silence they walked home. Despite his earlier instructions to Scruffy, the ghost would have been glad of his "nephew'' that wasn't his nephew's appearing about now, but there was little chance of that. Still, the girl was brave as her mother, and was holding up well.

When they reached Gull Cottage, the clock was chiming four.

With a wave, the fire roared into life. The captain sent Candy upstairs to get into something warm and dry while he made hot cocoa.

"Can I have marshmallows?" she asked, quickly getting over the cold now that she was in a safe place.

"We'll see."

Once Candy was redressed and back downstairs, remarkably quickly for a female, he thought, it was time to get the straight story.

"Now then, why were you on that road alone?"

"Practice let out half an hour early," Candy told him, by now working out that it wasn't her plan that had gone wrong, it just was Ray Farris' fault.

"Half an hour? " If that were true, totally, then she should not be leaving until now, four thirty, half an hour before Mrs. Muir was due to pick her up. "I thought it let out at five?"

"Oops."

"Oops indeed. And I think, before you washed your face and changed, I saw some paint on your face?"

"Well…" Candy began, then something occurred to her. "Mom! She'll show up at the church and be worried that no one is there."

Now you worry? But he did not say it aloud, merely went to the phone and dialed. "Claymore! Yes, it is me. I can dial one of these infernal machines. Now, I want you to go to the church- no I don't know anything about your soul's condition, you twit. Mrs. Muir will be arriving soon to pick up Candy, but the practice let out- a bit early. So Candy is home. You need to meet her there and tell her. I saw her home. No - I can't meet Mrs. Muir, someone needs to stay here and keep the fire going -- or do you want a fire to burn down the house? Very good, Claymore. Hop to it."

That taken care of, Captain Gregg returned to the table. "Now then, let's have it."

Candy stirred her cooling chocolate. "First, promise me that you w-won't tell Mom."

"Candy, I promised your mother I would not interfere about discipline issues. " He hesitated. "But, if there are matters that need not be said, I won't say them."

"Fair enough, and I - I know about the discipline part. I know I'm in for it there. Just don't tell her- don't tell her I - I-"

"Wore make up? That was iffy- I could have been seeing things, but don't let me see them again until your mother says it is permissible."

"No- but thanks. I - was crying when you came along, and I couldn't make it very well."

"I am afraid I don't follow..?"

"I can't remember my father very well, but I do remember when- he- when they-"

"The funeral," his voice was flat, recalling his own. It was not pleasant to see one's self laid out in a coffin.

"Yeah. I- Hazel told me- told me that I had to be a big girl, be strong for Momma and Jonathon, now. And I have tried, really hard but…"

"Candy, that was not what she meant, and whatever she meant, it was uncalled for and wrong. "

Tears were escaping now, fast, from her eyes. "But I've tried so hard…"

Wishing he could give her the hug she needed… He'd heard of ghosts having that ability, and Dashire had certainly been nagging him to learn it! It was something to work on, now that he had three reasons for it - the captain sighed to himself. "You have done well. Even the strongest of us, even I- need help, sometimes. And tears are not weakness. Sometimes, it takes more strength to be weak than to be strong."

"That does NOT make sense, " Candy sniffed, but the paradox stopped her tears. To his immense relief.

"No, but you will find that much of life exists in a tension between two seemingly opposite facts that are not so. "

"Again with the not making sense."

"Yes, well, now then, I won't tell your mother that," he promised, silently adding, if Hazel ever stows away, that woman will not have a pleasant voyage. "But it sounds like you might have misstated the time of the rehearsal's end? Why?"

She stirred a bit more. "I wanted to show Mom that I'm - almost adult. I am a pre-teen after all."

The ghost had enough command of his facial features to not smile in amusement. "And you were doing this by?"

"Well, she needed extra time to do that writing flea market- - thingee. And so , when the time of the rehearsal was changed, I decided to not tell her so that she could have the time she needed without worrying about getting back to pick me up, if I walked all the way home safe, then I'd prove I was a big girl."

"I see. So , you lied by omission, not commission?"

"It didn't seem that way, just that I wasn't telling everything, and to help her. If I'm grown, then I can help more." She had worked it all out walking home.

"Candy, you know what they say about good intentions…" he tried to sound stern. "And in the end, this was not your fault. If you hadn't intended on similar results, you'd have been the wronged one totally. However, I will leave the choice to you. "

"You won't tell?" Hope sprang in her eyes.

"It's not my story to tell, and from one view- you did nothing wrong. But, it is the adult thing to admit when one is wrong."

Five bells chimed. Time had flown.

"Are you relatively warm? I should turn off the fire before your mother, and particularly, Martha gets home."

"Yes, sir. Why don't we tell Martha about you? Isn't that a - mission lie too?"

"Omission? I hadn't thought about that. Perhaps in time, we can tell her, when she is ready."

Before he faded again, Candy called softly, "Thanks, Captain. Even if you aren't my father, you're the best dad I could have."

"Thank you, Candy." Then, both he and the fire were gone.

As Carolyn and Martha pulled up to the church, about a quarter until five, the only car they saw was Claymore's. Things seemed terribly abandoned. Fear made the chilly car even colder.

Parking, Carolyn offered, "Stay here, Martha, where it's warm, relatively. I'll see what's going on." Her quick mind had connected Claymore to the Captain to potential disaster.

Hastening across the lot gingerly, she knocked on Claymore's window. It took several long seconds for him to crank it down.

"Has something happened?" she asked anxiously.

"Mrs. Muir?" he blinked, not sure now that his glasses frosted over when the cold hit them.

"Yes, Claymore. Has something happened?" Patience, be patient, became a mantra.

"Oh, I don't think so- or if it is, I don't know what it is. You know who sent me to tell you that Candy is safe at home. Uh huh. Practice let out early, but she's home and fine. Tell him I told you. Now, can I go?"

"Wait a minute. How did she get home?" Carolyn asked, keeping her hand on the top of the window so it couldn't be rolled up again.

"Uh- I don't know. Maybe he brought her home? Poofed or popped her there? How should I know?"

"I thought maybe you drove her home?" Carolyn said a bit weakly, not liking the idea of her little girl walking the two or three miles to Gull Cottage in this. Her jacket had not been very warm.

"No, I didn't. But -" he held up a finger, "I didn't know about it until old spooky called and told me, so maybe I would have - if I'd known. Probably not- but I might have. We'll never know."

"I think you would have, maybe," Carolyn smiled, trying to psyche him into the decency he surely had somewhere in him since he was related to Daniel Gregg. "Thank you for letting me know, Claymore."

"You're welcome. You will tell HIM - that I obeyed, won't you?"

"Yes, Claymore."

"Can I go?"

She stepped back. "Thanks again," Carolyn called before returning to report to Martha.

Taking care on the roads that were beginning to ice over, the two women made it home in twenty minutes.

As they opened the door to what should have been an icy house, Martha looked startled. "Old place has better insulation than I thought."

"Maybe the captain got further along on his ambition to make it a New England version of Monticello," Carolyn commented, suspecting the truth.

"Didn't know that he had that ambition," Martha shrugged, removing her coat. "Candy- we're home."

Candy came to meet them, slowly, almost shyly. Carolyn met her halfway, hugging her daughter tightly. "Are you okay, sweetie? Claymore told us about practice. " That was said a bit loudly, so "you know who'' could hear. "Did you get a ride home?"

"No- ma'am. Not exactly," she whispered.

Could Claymore have been right? Carolyn leaned down to whisper. "The captain poofed you home?"

"Walked with me," Candy whispered back.

Suspecting that this was some story, Carolyn unbent to look at Martha. "Do you still have chicken soup, Martha - I think that's what we need, to be safe."

"I'll get it right on," Martha agreed, glad to have something to do and sensing that they needed, for some reason, some mother daughter time.

Carolyn took her daughter to the living room. Now that the adults were back, the fire was reborn. "Thanks," she said to the portrait.

For a few seconds, they were quiet, then Carolyn took a deep breath. "I do not like this. What was that man thinking - turning you out like that?"

"He- it's - he only let us out half an hour early- and Mrs. H did offer- but I didn't want to ride with Penny," Candy blurted.

"I see. Unless you did pop- like Samantha- there is no way you could have made it home and called Claymore so he could meet us if you left at four thirty."

"No. " Candy's tone dropped to whisper. "He can't do that." Louder, "I- was wrong about - they changed the rehearsal times. But I didn't tell you. It was five, at first. Then, it wasn't. I wanted to walk home by myself so you'd know I was grown up. " Candy hesitated. "And when I got there, I put on more make up, that Stephanie had."

Carolyn contemplated the confession. She was both disappointed and proud of her daughter. Disappointed at the slight lie, even though as it turned out, she would have been in a similar situation in any case; and in the disobedience. Yet, she was proud of her confession, neither of which she had to make really.

"Where does-" she looked at the portrait, " come in?"

"He knew I needed help. And brought a coat to me. We came home together."

How? Carolyn wondered, but decided it must be a ghost thing, then recalled her own father had always seemed to be able to know when she needed a daddy, even though it made no sense for him to know and there was no way he could. Maybe not a ghost thing.

"Well. I have to punish you a bit, for lying, even though circumstances cancelled it out, and for defying me. But - you did admit it, and you have been through a rough spot," Carolyn began in the best mom tone she could muster.

Indeed she has, Madam came to her ears only.

"So, I'm just going to cancel the skating trip I was going to take you on tomorrow. We will stay home and you can lick Christmas card envelopes and stamps as I address them."

"Ugh, " Candy made a terrible face, mostly to convince her mom that it was a truly horrendous fate.

"Ugh indeed. Go on to the kitchen. Martha could use some company. I need to talk to someone."

"He was really great, Mom."

Carolyn just smiled and patted her daughter on the back as she passed by.

"Thank you, Captain. "

He appeared at her words. "It was no trouble, Mrs. Muir. Though if I had a heart, it would have stopped when I saw her all alone out there."

"How did you know?" She didn't argue about the heart. It might not beat, but he had a better heart than many men she'd known.

"Ghostly powers," he said imperiously.

She gave the ghost an 'if you say so' look. "Did she leave anything out?"

He did not hesitate, having decided not to betray her already. "No, madam. Unless- it was how bravely she held up. "

"Claymore did just as you asked."

"Good for him. Do you really think that I made progress on rivaling Jefferson's home?"

"Well, " she smiled, wishing for a thousand things that could not be it felt like, "maybe not technically, but Gull Cottage does have at least one advantage the late president never could have."

"That would be?"

"As if you don't know," was all Carolyn would say. "Thank you. For more than I think I know."

"It was my pleasure, dear lady."


End file.
